Must Be a Case of Mistaken Identity
by littlevoiceswhispering
Summary: With eyes still closed against the brightness, his head feels a little fuzzy, like he'd consumed too much alcohol. He moves a hand to test his surroundings - he's definitely not in the forest.


For someone who is always up before the dawn Robin is surprised by the feeling of light warming his face. Reaching consciousness is a struggle and it takes a moment for him to realise that the sunlight is not the only unfamiliar thing about this morning. He distinctly remembers returning to camp, entering his tent and crawling into that thing that Charming had called a sleeping bag; the ground solid beneath him. Now though, he's surrounded by softness and a sweet smell not found in the forest. He could still be dreaming but he doesn't recall ever having sensations that felt this real.

With eyes still closed against the brightness, his head feels a little fuzzy, like he'd consumed too much alcohol. He moves a hand to test his surroundings - he's definitely not in the forest. He tries opening one eye, shutting it quickly when a blinding whiteness meets him. Turning away from the source of his discomfort he tries again. First one eye, then the other and when the things around him come into focus he realises where it is exactly that he has ended up - Regina's. Robin looks around the room, he'd never actually been in it before but judging by the decoration and that scent (now that he was more awake he knew exactly what that was) the room could belong to no other.

But where was the lady?

* * *

She doesn't remember ever having such an uncomfortable nights sleep in her own bed, not even during the early years in this world. This feels like those first nights back in the Enchanted Forest or the minutes following her trip through the clock tower courtesy of Zelena. The she hears it, the birdsong, and she tries to recall if she left the window ajar. Deciding it's not important she rolls onto her side with the intention of drifting back to sleep but it's no use, for some reason her bed feels like it's been turned into wood and her pillows seem to have disappeared.

Sighing she mentally prepares herself for the light that's about to fill her vision. She'd been so exhausted that she'd neglected to close the drapes, just put on the first pair of pyjamas she'd come across and pulled the blankets over her head. What greeted her though, was not the familiar surroundings of her bedroom but what seemed to be the inside of a tent. Sitting bolt upright she documented the minimal belongings; the pile of clothing neatly stacked next to a pair of mens boots, the jacket hanging from one of the metal tent poles, but what gives away the identity of who's residence she now occupies is the crossbow propped carefully by the entrance. Her mind is still lagging from sleep but she's pretty damn sure she fell asleep in her own house. Regina groans, squeezing her eyes tight and rubs her hands over her face, except the sensations are all wrong. Her hands feel too large and calloused, there are deep lines on her forehead and as she slowly drags them down, past a nose that's too big, she encounters the most startling thing.

Facial hair.

Of all the things to come from there being magic in this world, she had not expected this. Shaking her head she rises from the sleeping bag on the ground, thankfully Robin's body is covered by a thermal t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, and moves over to the jacket and boots pulling them on as quickly as she can without falling. The proportions of Robin's body are different to her own and she finds it hard to adjust at first. If she is at Robin's then he must be at hers, or at least that's where she's hoping he is because that's where she's going. She brings up her right arm sharply expecting to be surrounded by a cloud of purple smoke and overcome by the familiar weightless sensation that comes with the transport spell, except there's nothing. Not even a tingle of the magic that she's so used to running through her veins. She's still rooted to the exact same spot in Robin's tent.

"Shit."

Her magic is still in HER body! Why hadn't she considered that this was a possibility? She takes a step outside of the tent tilting her head towards the canopy, assessing the dappled light that makes it through the foliage. It's not too late in the morning, the fact that none of Robin's Merry Men are active in the camp is proof of that but she still makes a dash for the edge of their little tented village and makes her way towards town. Once the tents are far enough behind her and she's satisfied that she won't be seen, Regina slows from a jog to what could almost be described as a power walk. She needed to fix this mess before too many people learned of it.

She knows the forest around Storybrooke like the back of her hand and it's not long before she emerges from the trees on the side of town closest to the house. It's brighter now but there is also nothing to disguise the form of Robin Hood making his way to the home of the Mayor so early in the morning so she picks up her pace once again. The heavy footfalls on the sidewalk are unfamiliar to her ears and she's about to check if she's being followed before she catches herself, remembering that she is in an unfamiliar body. She reaches the iron gate leading to her property quickly and once inside the perimeter she takes a deep breath, the enclosed space of the front yard means she can let her guard down. Just a little bit. This ordeal isn't over yet, she knows that, but at least she is one step closer.

She starts to make her way towards her front door. In Robin's body it takes less time; five strides and she's on the porch, one more and she's reaching for the door knob but it's locked. It's a habit she acquired when the majority of the town wanted to see her punished. In the grand scheme of things it's a recant development and so something she hadn't considered. Regina waves a hand across the lock only to curse herself.

"No magic, remember!"

There's no spare key laying around, wouldn't that be convenient for any murderous townsfolk. Besides, if ever she found herself locked out then she always had her magic. Except she doesn't and her hope of a discreet entry into her own home is now a thing of the past. She starts to knock, quietly at first in short bursts, leaving time for anyone inside to make their way to the door and open it. Nothing. She tries again only harder this time.

* * *

He's just about to get up and go to find Regina when he hears a sound from below. A series of knocks, on the front door he assumes, he stops his movements and listens closely. Maybe she is already making her way to greet the visitor but he realises that there is no sound of her heels in the foyer followed by the opening of the heavy door. Another few moments pass and the knocking begins again, louder and with an urgency that wasn't there before.

It is not his house, nor his place to do so, but it is obvious to him now that Regina is not here with him and whoever is currently outside must need to find her quite urgently. Even if he can't tell them her whereabouts he can at least save them from wasting their time pounding at her front door so he throws back the covers, slides off the edge of the bed and stumbles to the door. He's most definitely still suffering from this 'hangover', his co-ordination is all over the place and he still can't remember how in the world he got here. He crosses the threshold of the bedroom and steps onto the landing, the hardwood floor is cold and a shock to his senses after the soft rug that covers the majority of floorspace in Regina's bedroom. He grabs for the railing, not trusting himself fully to descend the spiral staircase without causing himself an injury and slowly makes his way down to the foyer.

About halfway down there's more knocking and Robin knows he's made the right decision to open the door because whoever's out there is definitely not leaving any time soon. The knocking stops just as he reached the bottom of the staircase and it's just a few more strides, and the small set of steps, before he's at the door. He's watched Regina do this a couple of times but he still fumbles with the lock, looking back at his hands he thinks that maybe whatever is messing with his head and co-ordination is also reeking havoc with his depth perception because he swears his hands look half the size. A few seconds later he hears the tell tale sound of the lock sliding back, he presses down on the handle and opens the door. When it's wide enough to see more than just a small patch of sky and Regina's front yard Robin steps out from behind the door only to be confronted by the image of his own body.


End file.
